


The Colour of Youth

by petaldancing



Category: Hyouka & Kotenbu Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Dungeon Meshi AU, F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-19 05:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11306424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petaldancing/pseuds/petaldancing
Summary: The colour of youth is like ice cream. Its many flavours are like the spectrum of a rainbow, but no matter how it tastes, what doesn’t change is its richness and flavour. Another distinguishing feature of ice cream is the short time one has to eat it. — Hyouka ensemble pieces, character studies and AU fun.





	1. Self-less (Mayaka + Houtarou)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of the Hyouka drabbles/micro-fics that I've written over my years in the Hyouka fandom. This is more a personal archive than anything else, and contains fics based on AUs, character interactions and the usual pairings, with multiple tries at exploring different takes on canon / character dynamics. 
> 
> Recently, I've had more time to write, so you'll probably see some new fics being added to this over time! (: 
> 
> The lines found in the summary are a translation from an interview with Yonezawa, and explain why he chose to name the first volume in the Kotenbu series, Hyouka. It's also one of the main reasons why Hyouka is so close and near and dear to my heart, even as I've very much 'outgrown' my youth now. I hope that you find these 3... 4-year old words meaningful and that you also takeaway wonderful things from this great series and characters (:

“I don’t know if this is presumptuous of me to ask, but how did you and Oreki-san meet?” Chi-chan asked Mayaka offhandedly one day in the Geog Prep room. Houtarou and Satoshi had classes till the late afternoon, and the girls made a habit of exploiting such times to discuss things they couldn’t around the boys. Mayaka wasn’t too thrilled about this topic, though.

What Chi-chan really meant to ask was: why didn’t she and Oreki get along? She was just too polite to phrase it that way. She wasn’t the first.

Come to think of it, Mayaka didn’t know when the enmity between her and Oreki began. Maybe it was how the bits and pieces of the small things that Oreki did (forgetting to do his homework, leaving the classroom door open, staring into the distance and then later asking Satoshi for what had been assigned, eating a sole red bean bun for lunch, existing) came together.

Maybe it was Oreki’s motto. That motto really got on her nerves because it was selfish in a way that Mayaka found unnerving. Mayaka was selfish too – selfish about a lot of things, about her interests, her opinions, her emotions and Satoshi. She just didn’t show it.

Oreki didn’t care if the whole world knew he was selfish. There was something infuriating about that, for someone to be so full of themselves that they could say that with such nonchalance. Mayaka didn’t want to be like that – never, never, never. She called him out on his actions, made fun of him, teased him, it was loud and it reminded her why she would never be like him. Then: she helped out her classmates, volunteered for extra shifts in the library, worked tirelessly on her own manga, in vague, quiet, rebellion of Oreki.

Yet, there were days in the Manga Club or when she was walking home with Satoshi, where she wished she could be a little more selfish too.

No matter how many times people asked, Mayaka only gave one answer: “Because he’s lazy.”


	2. Unrulers (Satoshi/Mayaka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just because it's you, Fuku-chan, doesn't mean you can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: something about Satoshi realizing Mayaka's skirt is a bit shorter than the other girls's, and he deciding he likes it

☀

“What’s your type, Fukube?”

Satoshi looks away from the soccer field where the girls are conducting their portion of gym class. 

“Type of food? Type of book? Type of fish?”

“Type of girl,” Yanai corrects him with a disappointed sigh.

Satoshi raises an eyebrow. No one in class has ever asked him about his opinions on girls before. “I don’t really think about things like that,” he gives his friend an easy laugh. Yanai isn’t convinced, because his expression is one of upfront disbelief. “How can our resident know-it-all know nothing about the girls in Kamiyama? Do you know how many potential girlfriends there are in our year?” 

“There are a hundred and twenty girls and about a hundred and fifty-two boys in our year,” Satoshi offers helpfully.

Yanai’s shoulders sag even further. He runs a determined hand through his short hair. 

“I don’t buy it, Fukube! You’re a cheeky guy!” He punches Satoshi’s shoulder lightly. “You must have a list of things you look for in a girl! You’re odd, but you’re still a guy like us at the end of the day.”

Before Satoshi has to construct an answer to that, the gym teacher thankfully blows his whistle. Satoshi immediately jumps off the bench. He would rather run five laps around the field than reply Yanai’s pestering any day.

☀

It’s not so much that he doesn’t have a list. It’s more like Satoshi never really needed one. There’s Mayaka, after all. Satoshi turns the tap and splashes the running water onto his face, washing away the unnecessary thought from his mind as the bell signaling the end of the period rings across the campus. Satoshi grabs his towel off the sink and jogs back to join the rest of the boys in his class, taking extra care not to wander near to Yanai on their three minute walk back to the classrooms.

☀ 

Still, Yanai’s question leaves an impression on Satoshi. He can’t shake off the urge to collect and compile the list of traits the girls in Kamiyama share and don’t share now. It’s a habit of being a database, Satoshi concedes. He starts with the girls in his class. Ordering them in terms of height, hair length, whether or not they’ve pierced their ears, their best and/or favourite subjects, and the ways they tie their hair. Houtarou suggests collating the number of times they announce ‘I’m curious!’ every day but Satoshi rejects that since there would be only one anomaly in the whole female population.

He offers the compiled statistics to Yanai after two week’s worth of investigation.

His friend verges on tears of joy and Satoshi takes one thoughtful step away from him.

“You’re a genius, Fukube!”

“Thank you!” He allows himself one proud bow.

“But!” Yanai suddenly raises a clenched fist in the air. “You forgot one important thing!”

“Really?” Satoshi lends Yanai more than sixty percent of his attention for the first time this month.

He feels an arm hook his shoulders and usher him to one corner of the half-empty classroom. Satoshi feels like he’s participating in something illegal as Yanai lowers his voice into a confidential whisper.

“Skirt length.”

☀

And that’s how Satoshi learns that Mayaka’s skirt is shorter than most of the first year girls in Kamiyama. The fact shouldn’t stick to his mind, but it does, and Satoshi likes to think that he possesses fantastic social skills and decision-making. So, one afternoon during a Classics Club meeting that requires Houtaoru and Chitanda to go scouting in the library for old newspapers, he looks up from his current book and informs Mayaka, sitting across the table from him, that: “Your skirt is shorter than seventy five percent of the girls in school!” He smiles a little at the end. 

Mayaka, to her credit, doesn’t immediately burst out in rage. She moves one hand off the table and under its surface, presumably to mat her skirt down. Satoshi tells himself not to check. “It’s not on purpose! I had to get the smallest skirt since I can’t fit into the normal skirt size and it just happened to be short after I sent it for tailoring!” she explains, cheeks heating into that familiar shade of red Satoshi has grown used to after all these years.

“Ah, I see.” He nods. He wonders how small her waist is, and remembers the time at the public swimming pool where he almost got a chance to hold her, and immediately flushes the thought out of his head with a wide grin in Mayaka’s direction. “That makes sense.”

“I’m still angry you looked,” the girl tells him, unfaltering like she’s always been.

“Just because it’s you, Fuku-chan, doesn’t mean you can,” Mayaka adds, softening, and Satoshi takes a long breath to compose himself and keep the corner of his lips up. He hopes Mayaka doesn’t hear it. 

“I know,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry?”

Mayaka buries her face into her book so all he can see now is the crown of her head. And Satoshi thinks he won’t have a list of what he likes about girls for Yanai anytime soon because he still hasn’t finished the list of reasons why Mayaka can make him smile without even trying. 

☀


	3. If I Could (TYL!AU, Satoshi/Mayaka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... but I can't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU; where Satoshi and Mayaka don’t get together after ep 22 of the anime, aka where they are both too scared to change

**1.** That Valentine’s Day, Satoshi apologises to Mayaka over the phone and the sleeting snow. It’s cold. He doesn’t ask her out, doesn’t tell her he likes her, Houtarou’s pep talk doing nothing now that he’s alone and staring at her name on his phone and hearing her voice, shaking and exhausted. He’s prepared for the worst outburst ever, Mayaka’s usual temper tripled or quadrupled at the least.

But Mayaka doesn’t shout in anger or frustration. There’s a dead silence over the line, and then, a quiet “alright”. Defeated and tired. It hurts him more than anything else, and that he’s the cause of it makes the snow colder.

* * *

 

 **2.** He kisses her on Graduation Day and the blame is all on him. He’s the worst kind of person because all he does is take take take whatever her wants when it’s convenient, from not just Mayaka, but even Houtarou. He gives back nothing to either of them. Giving them something means giving meaning and giving emotional attachments and giving obsessions he can’t afford to get obsessed over even though he thinks about them day in and day out. 

Mayaka still looks at him with the same eyes of the last six years and he wants to ask her “Why don’t you change?” but then he looks at his reflection in her eyes and thinks that he’s not allowed the right to that question. 

It’s a good thing Mayaka’s hand jolts to her mouth and she runs away, and the back of the school’s auditorium is lifeless now that all the students have left. Satoshi had been prepared to do the same. She’s just faster. 

* * *

 

 **3.**  They are twenty-one the next time he lets himself do something he knows will make both of them regret it in the end. He’s a sadist and Mayaka’s a masochist. Or maybe it’s the other way around. They could be perfectly twisted together, but the keyword is ‘could’.

The bar is quiet and intimate and Houtarou leaves early to pick Chitanda up from classes and it’s just them in the booth and the hand she rests on the tabletop is still small and clenched and pretty. He kisses her twice and Mayaka kisses him once and that’s three things against his favour. The alcohol is their flawless scapegoat and even though it’s the middle of summer, Satoshi feels cold all over again as she says goodbye to him at her doorstep.

* * *

 

 **4.**  Mayaka brings a bottle of sake to his apartment three years later, carrying it delicately in her arms. He stores it in the cupboard and doesn’t take it out for the entire night. Somehow, in a cruel inevitable way that he’s grown tired of but can’t ever grown out of, they still end up hunched over the sofa and her stomach is pale and soft and her cheeks, when red and flushed, are beautiful, and her arms are still giving and giving even when they’re wrapping around his back and pulling and Satoshi freezes just before he can unclip her bra and he storms out of his own apartment

and comes back one hour later after walking around the neighbourhood. The door is locked and the key is hidden under the doormat and the apartment is neat and tidy and it’s easy to pretend that nothing ever happened.

* * *

 

**5.**

“I should have said something on Valentine’s Day,” he says. They’re both thirty and lonely and bitter. Satoshi can’t call Chitanda Chitanda now because she’s Eru and Houtarou is going to be a father in four months. But even then, Mayaka’s still looking at him with those eyes he can’t let himself fall head over heels for. 

“You didn’t,” Mayaka reminds him. 

'I can’t’, he thinks, and slips his hand out of hers. 


	4. Taking and Giving but not Keeping (Satoshi + Chitanda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he cannot handle Eru Chitanda

  
☾  

Chitanda takes.

She takes the Geog Prep room and transforms it into her haven where she can read books and search for answers and giggle and clap her hands over the mystery of the week. She takes the mantle of Chairperson of the Classic Literature Club and crowns it on herself in a modest, humble way, even as she burns with anticipation and enthusiasm. She takes Houtarou and brushes the dust off his shoulders and straightens his posture and drags him out of his grey, grey world. She takes Houtaoru and leads him, his hands tied behind his back and her hands blindfolding his eyes, and makes him change in the smallest ways, magic dancing from her fingertips. She takes Satoshi’s smile and returns it, only, her smile is genuine and hopeful and she doesn’t plant anything else in it, an amateur.

She takes them on trips to quaint hot springs and takes them through meetings discussing the next _Hyouka_ issue, takes them to her house for projects and for afternoon tea, takes them to libraries and takes them on their way home. She takes and takes and takes and Satoshi stands at the side, recording everything at the back of his mind. 

☾ 

Chitanda gives.

She gives them encouragement packaged in nice words and her biology notes before tests and uncomplicated riddles to solve. She gives them her curious eyes. She gives Mayaka a warm hug on the back, gives her a listening ear, gives her a hand to hold and a steady shoulder to rest her sharp, gentle chin on. She gives Mayaka a rare small dress that fits her perfectly. Few things can fit Mayaka’s tiny frame. She gives Mayaka real emotions and she gives Mayaka what Satoshi can never give. Satoshi should be grateful to her for that – and he is, along with something more that he’s too petty to admit to right now. She gives Satoshi her full attention when he rambles on about the size of the moon and the number of pillars in the school’s courtyard, and that someone should pay attention to him reciting aimless statistics is the oddest thing in the world.   

She gives them exciting high school afternoons and gives them long black hair combed down to the waist, gives them her heart in the middle of her palm, trustful and patient and shaped beautifully. She gives them her courage because she’s never afraid to tell the truth. Satoshi wonders if she’s just here to make him feel like this. She gives and gives so much, it makes Satoshi realise he never has anything to give to anyone.

☾ 

Satoshi only keeps. He keeps his feelings to himself and keeps Mayaka’s heart in one fist and Houtarou’s friendship in the other. He keeps to his neon pink life and keeps to his squeaky bike and his favourite purple bag. He’s selfish to the bone and he does it all with his very special carefree smile. Everything comes easy to Satoshi. Whenever a problem crops up, a smile is the best remedy. Mayaka’s love, which chooses to express itself in bouts of anger or expectant looks that in themselves expect nothing or (the worst) slight tug of the lips that mean too much, and Houtarou’s annoying habit of smothering his talent and pulling at his bangs, things that Satoshi will never have, will go away eventually. He keeps everything at bay with a grin or two. After three years, it’s become easy to handle Houtarou Oreki and Mayaka Ibara.

“Good morning, Fukube-san.”   
  
Chitanda calls him up early on a Sunday morning. He’s still curled under his blanket and if it had been Houtarou or even Mayaka, Satoshi would have ignored the sound of his handphone vibrating because he can afford to do that to them.

“’Morning, Chitanda-san,” he answers in the middle of a yawn.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were still asleep! I apologise for waking you!” the girl’s voice jumps into attention, and she sounds actually apologetic, her compassion not just for show. Satoshi clutches his stomach.

“Nah, it’s okay. I would have slept my whole day away if you hadn’t called.” He rolls over on the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” even Chitanda’s laugh seems to bow in apology.  Her voice only hardens when she says, “But I’m just calling to remind you that your article for our next issue is due on Wednesday.”

Ah, not a good day for an article to be due. He’ll be swamped with student council duties from Monday through Thursday. He can’t barrel through the article today either because he’s already planned to go out to check the new shopping outlet at the east side of town. He has to buy more thread and yarn for his project with the Handicrafts Society. Houtarou had rejected the offer to accompany him because of his usual policy, content to carry his nonchalant pride through his empty sundays. Mayaka told him she’d be busy with homework. It’s a lie. Satoshi can tell because he’s pretty adept at white-lying too. Also, there’s the fact that it’s Mayaka.

Satoshi tries to rephrase all this in a more concise way for Chitanda.

“But, Fukube-san, we won’t be able to publish _Hyouka_ on time if you don’t submit it by Wednesday,” the girl explains, unaffected by his embarrassed chuckles and awkward apologies. “Let’s think of a way to get this done together, alright? I’m sure I could be of some help!”

“No, no, it’s alright.” He smiles even though there’s no one around to see.

“I insist!” Against his expectations, Chitanda doesn’t back down, and Satoshi has to swallow a sigh, like a lump, down the back of his throat. He tries not to frown at her inability to take a hint because that would be rude, and Chitanda doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve anything other than Mayaka and Houtarou and her perfect smile and childish hobby of solving mysteries.

“Alright,” Satoshi slumps back down on his pillow.

He cannot handle Eru Chitanda.  

☾

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (old notes:) Happy New Year, guys! I was thinking, what better way to start the new year than with something I’ve never written before. I’ve always been intrigued with the potential of Satoshi and Chitanda’s relationship. The show itself speaks very little of what kind of relationship these two have. As far as we know, it’s one of mutual respect and understanding to a certain degree, because Satoshi and Chitanda do share similarities in some ways. On the other hand, we have Chitanda, who suddenly barges in and sweeps both Houtarou and Mayaka up and off their feet. What if Satoshi felt something from having his two most important people being taken away from him, or something along those lines? 
> 
> But at the end of the day, if Satoshi ever considers the thought of disliking someone like Chitanda, he’d probably laugh it off. How is it possible to hate someone like her, right? I guess that’d be what he would be thinking. She may come off as a paradox, being too selfish yet at the same time too generous, but taking a step back, these aren’t things he can come to hate at all. What I’m trying to say is that though Chitanda may bring Satoshi a lot of inner grief or cause him to go through a lot of self-reflection, and make him realise what kind of person he is, he would probably never truly dislike her. What a tiring relationship that would be, and a one-sided one at that.
> 
> I will write a happier take on them though! Eventually! I think they have the potential to be the absolute best friends who talk in metaphors about their relationship with Houtarou and Mayaka respectively!


	5. Butterfly Dresses (Mayaka + Chitanda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can I request for a Chitanda/Mayaka friendship fic? I'm very curious as how you see the relationship as close confidants.

The saleswoman gave her an apologetic smile. Mayaka recognised the way she smiled and felt the dress grow heavy in her hand.  

“I’m sorry, Miss. That’s the smallest size we have.” 

Oh. Mayaka’d heard this one before. She handed the pretty, simple dress back to the saleswoman and left the boutique. It’d been a nice dress too, just her style and well within her budget. Mayaka decided not to think too much about it. With her mood dampened, she made a detour to the bookstore. She should spend her clothes-money on some manga instead. At least reading and enjoying manga didn’t come with restrictions of any sort.  

* * *

 

Chi-chan was kind of, sort of, pretty much the most amazing person Mayaka had ever met. No sarcasm. That was reserved for Oreki.

Mayaka had a track record for getting into disagreements. It was part of her nature to state her opinion, even if it clashed with someone else’s, especially if she found her opinion to make more sense. It seemed a little self-righteous, but that was the person she was, and there was no way to change that. The only two people who never seemed to really mind were Oreki and Satoshi. She was thankful to them (though she would naturally never admit it to Oreki) for accepting this side of her, but she always felt like maybe, she could afford to be a better person. She got along fine with the rest of her class, girls and boys alike, but it seemed that people were wary of approaching her.

“Maya-chan!” Chi-chan waved to her when she came across her moping in the library.

“Ah, hello,” she said, trying to smile a little, still sore about the dress.

Chi-chan made a puzzled face. “What’s the matter, Maya-chan? It looks like something’s bothering you.”

“Is it that obvious?” Mayaka chuckled even though she didn’t find anything in particular funny. Chi-chan was the first person today to ask her about her gloomy expression.

Chi-chan gestured to a chair tucked against one of the study tables in the library. “Will it be alright if I borrow that for a short while?”

“Sure?”

The girl hurried to grab both sides of the chair and bring it over to the counter where Mayaka was sitting. She sat down beside Mayaka, lacing hands on her lap like it came instinctively to her, before turning to her and asking again, “So what’s the matter?” Her full attention was now focused on only Mayaka.

She felt embarrassed to talk about the trivial matter of a dress being one size too big. Still, with Chi-chan looking at her with those wide, searching eyes, she couldn’t brush it off as simply being ‘nothing’ now. Chi-chan took a lot of things seriously, both the big and the small. Mayaka propped her elbow on the counter and her cheek into her hand and smiled. She couldn’t find anything to dislike about that.   

* * *

 

“What are you doing this weekend, Mayaka?” Satoshi asked her in that casual way of his. The road in front of them was cast in the sunset’s orange, and she was struck with the inspiration to sketch this entire scene when she got back home. Maybe she could add it into the manga she was working on now. A girl and a boy walking home after school. Of course, she would have to make adjustments: add in a bit of romance and a bit of shyness and ambiguity to bring more life into the scene. All of that was absent now.  

“I’m going shopping with Chi-chan,” she answered.

Satoshi smiled at her, and the effect of the sunset wasn’t helping things. “That’s great. You know, you don’t usually go out with anyone!”

She threw a punch at his arm.

The boy laughed but didn’t dodge it. “I’m sorry, but that’s true, isn’t it?”

Mayaka grunted a reluctant ‘yes’.

He nodded. “I’m glad for you, Mayaka.”

* * *

 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go shopping with Chi-chan after all. Mayaka was a very stingy person. She knew right off the bat if she liked something and if she didn’t. It was the complete opposite for a person like Chi-chan, who could spend too long focusing on one piece of clothing, weighing its pros and cons, before putting it back and going onto the next one – and then coming back to the original skirt again to consider it once more.

“This?” Chi-chan held up a blouse.

“Nope,” Mayaka said, too flowery.

“What about this?” A skirt with ruffles.

“Not really my style.”

“Ah, what do you think about this?” Chi-chan had five different things draped over her arms by now. She managed to hold up one more sundress, ribbons stitched onto its straps. Mayaka relieved her of some of the weight.

“I don’t think it suits me,” Mayaka said with great difficulty, touching the texture of the dress. As Chi-chan dove through the clothes racks to find other alternatives, Mayaka hung the dress, skirt and blouse back in place. She felt bad for declining Chi-chan’s suggestions. She was, after all, trying to help her.  

“Listen, Chi-chan,” she began, just as Chi-chan emerged with another dress, this time with butterflies printed on them.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for being so difficult. Maybe it’ll be better if I just shop alone,” Mayaka said honestly. She closed her eyes, clenching her hands, wondering what reaction she would get. It seemed that things always ended this way for her. 

“Maya-chan, you aren’t being difficult at all,” Chi-chan sounded confused. Mayaka looked at her, joining in on the confusion too.

“I’m not?”

Chi-chan looked thoughtful. “Not at all,” she said in a plain, straightforward way. “Why would you think that way?”

“I – ” Mayaka didn’t have a clear answer for that. She felt happy for some reason.  

Instead of pursuing the matter, Chi-chan placed the dress back on the rack and held her hand. “It looks like this store doesn’t have anything that suits us. Come on, let’s go to the next one.” She smiled as she led Mayaka into the Sunday crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (extra satoshi/mayaka thing that I couldn’t really fit in this, but belongs to this fic:)
> 
> Mayaka was used to people being nice to her in return for her help. That was how a transaction worked, because no one truly helped and expected nothing back, right? Satoshi was the exception. Mayaka let him be nice to her and didn’t feel the need to return his kindness. She had a feeling that he tried to be nice to her whenever he could because the rest of the time, he knew he hadn’t been a very good person for her to be around. It was ridiculous that she still liked him.
> 
> Ridiculous, Mayaka told herself – but nothing ever changed. A sigh, shallow and dignified.
> 
> \---
> 
> (old notes:) Anyway let me just say my piece about these two sweeties: I love their relationship in Hyouka. Completely positive portrayal and so supportive of each other. Did you see how worked up Chitanda got over Mayaka and her chocolate in ep 21? One of the reasons why I liked 21 isn’t only because of the superb exposition of Satoshi and Satoshi/Mayaka’s relationship, but also the fact that it acknowledged how important Mayaka and Chitanda are to each other. They made chocolate together! They stuff themselves crazy over incredibly flawed boys! 
> 
> I think Mayaka is a person who is socially functional. A lot of people may feel that she’s a loner, but I think she probably fits well in her class and does have friends. She’s a nice girl. The thing is that she never manages to get as close to anyone other than Satoshi and Houtarou (and eventually Chitanda), and this may be because of her hard/rough personality. It’s fine, because 1. Houtarou’s thick skin can endure it, 2. Satoshi doesn’t mind it or might even admire it, 3. Chitanda balances it out with her soft/gentle personality. While Mayaka may have friends outside of the Classics Club, it’s easy to see that Chitanda is probably someone she will get along best with and someone she feels comfortable opening herself up to.
> 
> And it’s not a one-sided relationship either. Mayaka is probably the only one who can handle Chitanda. Houtarou is overwhelmed, Satoshi goes along with it with his carefree smile, but you can rely on Mayaka to be the person to tether Chitanda to the ground and keep her from floating too far off. 
> 
> BASICALLY IM ACTUALLY SECRETLY ANGRY THEY DIDNT GIVE US MORE MAYAKA/CHITANDA INTERACTION IN THE ANIME!!!! 
> 
> (╯°Д°）╯︵ ┻━┻


	6. Tell Me Something Worthwhile (Mayaka/Satoshi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mayaka has come to hate the word 'sorry'.

☼ 

“Sorry!” Satoshi says when he forgets to bring the math notes she lent him over the weekend.

“Sorry,” he chimes when he nearly bumps into her.

“Sorry,” he repeats, over and over again, for everything he does.

☼ 

Mayaka has come to hate the word ‘sorry’ when it comes out of Satoshi’s mouth. It isn’t even because he uses it so often and so casually around her. It’s the fact that that’s the only thing he knows how to say. When their hands brush each other’s, when he looks at her for too long and doesn’t have any reason to explain it, when he stands too close, when she tells him she likes him for the second time that week – an apology just tumbles out of Satoshi, instinctive, defensive, promising nothing to her except for the fact that he will say it again the next time he needs to.

At the same time, Mayaka has come to expect ‘sorry’s from Satoshi. She can hit his shoulder with all her might, she can yell at him over the smallest thing, she can cry when she can’t take anything anymore – and she knows that he will always be there to say ‘sorry’ to her, even when it isn’t his fault. Satoshi doesn’t know how to do anything else. It’s both something Mayaka hates yet relies on.

Because, as long as Satoshi continues to say ‘sorry’, it means that they can stay as they are, stuck on the steady, barren ground between being friends and something more. Mayaka can throw the entire library at him, and he’ll still be there to smile at her and give her an ambiguous answer to her feelings. She lets Satoshi do this. One day during lunch, as Oreki and Chi-chan talk about splitting their portions evenly, Mayaka realises that between her and Satoshi, she’s the worse person. 

“Sorry,” Satoshi says one day when he holds her hand for too long. They’ve forgotten why he’s holding it in the first place. His fingers are soft and careful, made for sewing. Her fingers are coarse, their small blisters the result of too many nights spent drawing.

Mayaka shakes his grip off and frowns as she pivots on her heel to face him.

“Save it,” she tells him and herself before storming off. 

☼

“Sorry,” Satoshi tries again the next day during Classics Club.

Mayaka sits upright in the chair and flips through her book, keeping her eyes glued to the paragraph she’s trekking through.

Then, she raises a hand to knock his forehead lightly.

☼

On Graduation Day, Satoshi looks different. Though he walks with his usual carefree gait and his smile is bright, Mayaka thinks that something is bothering him. She writes it off as graduation blues. Almost all of the third years are suffering from it. Oreki doesn’t show his non-Chi-chan emotions easily, but even he seems wistful as they line up in the auditorium for the ceremony. Hands deep in his pockets, chin tucked, looking off into the distance. Chi-chan carries herself evenly, but her smile is touched with sadness.

In her designated chair, sitting next to her classmates, Mayaka feels the emotions approach her in waves. At moments, she’s stricken with sadness and longing, then, the next minute, excitement for the future, then, a second later, everything dries up, and indifference is the only thing she can feel when the principal finishes his speech. The students clap their hands, sing the school anthem, take their certificates, bow, and graduate.

Satoshi gestures to her through the crowd of students (some crying, others celebrating) streaming out of the auditorium when the ceremony is over. Mayaka inhales sharply and feels her chest tighten, but her feet guide her towards him either way. They zigzag through their peers and end up behind the auditorium. Mayaka clenches her hand when they’re completely alone. She hides it behind her back to prevent Satoshi from seeing it.

“What did you want to talk about, Fuku-chan?” Mayaka prepares herself.

“We’re in different classes, so I didn’t get a chance to tell you personally, but, congratulations on graduating, Mayaka,” he laughs, extending his palm to her.

It’s not what she what she wants to hear, but it’s what she’s expecting. She unclenches her hand to take his, and they shake. “You too,” she says automatically.

Mayaka realises that this is the last time Satoshi can hold her hand and pretend that he doesn’t mean anything when he does it. Next month, they’ll be packing their rooms into suitcases and moving off to different universities. Next year, they’ll be in completely different places, with completely different people. When he starts to let go, Mayaka doesn’t let him.

“Fuku-chan, I’m going to miss you,” she finds herself saying.

“We can text each other any time. And we’re going to mail letters to each other, right? I’m planning to send one to everyone every week or so. Houtarou’s probably not going to reply to any of them, but I’m going to mail stuff to him too. He’d be lonely otherwise. Chitanda-san also promised to keep in touch, remember? Don’t worry, Mayaka! We’ll always be – ” he stops abruptly. She stares at him.

“We’ll always be what?” she asks. Friends? 

Satoshi closes his mouth. His smile slowly disappears, and he looks serious for once. Mayaka thinks, ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I’m ruining everything again’. She closes her eyes and tells herself not to raise her voice, not to push and shove him into a corner, because she’s always doing that and she doesn’t know how he can take it. She doesn’t know why Satoshi can still smile at her after all they’ve done to each other. She doesn’t know why he’s holding her hand and why he’s stepping closer to her now. 

He’s the one that erases the distance between them but she’s the one that reaches up for the kiss. Their hands, awkward but still gripping tightly, wedge between them. She doesn’t manage to stay on her toes and Satoshi bends slightly to accommodate her, pushing instead of being pushed for once, and it makes her fingers curl against his uniform. He only snaps out of it when Mayaka pulls back to breathe and stop her knees from shaking.

Satoshi doesn’t move for a moment. Then, he opens his mouth, taking a breath.

“Sor– ”

She slaps a hand over his mouth. She won’t let him say it this time.

Mayaka lowers her head to hide her face.

“Thank you.”

☼

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (old notes:) my favourite past time is writing variations of their graduation day kiss AW YEAH -`д´- I have no clue what I’m doing. The only thing I know is that in my headcanon they will always have their first kiss on Graduation Day.
> 
> Let it end in angst, ambiguity, happiness, marriage, more kisses etc WHATEVER MAN, THANK YOU EVERYONE BYE.
> 
> Also I have the habit of ignoring the fact that they apparently start dating in Volume 5, canonically. I KNOW BUT WOW I just really like the idea that they know each other’s feelings but can’t/won’t/don’t know what to do with each other, even up to the end of high school, and are stuck in a limbo, ok ;A; I think Mayaka’s answer (“Things have been normal.”) in episode 22 made this happen. I can’t unthink it, I can’t unheadcanon it.


	7. There Are Questions I Can't Answer (Houtarou/Chitanda, Satoshi, Mayaka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first time he asks Chitanda a question, he doesn’t get an answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I just finished Hyouka and I've read all your fanfic, I absolutely love it! So I have a request, Chitanda/Oreki first kiss?
> 
> extra note: sorry but there's no kissu in this fic if that's a dealbreaker!!

☀

The first time he asks Chitanda a question, he doesn’t get an answer.

“Chitanda-san! Is there anyone you like?” Satoshi asks in his most casual way. The boy must be in one of those moods, the kind of moods that only Ibara can boast to somewhat understand.

“Ah, um,” Chitanda flutters in her seat.     
  
Ibara bangs a fist on the table. Houtarou doesn’t flinch because he’s used to hearing mighty sounds from her small frame, but slides his gaze to her direction to avoid causing further offence.

“Fuku-chan, you can’t just ask questions like that!” she scolds. Satoshi laughs and says a bunch of flippant things like ‘ _I was kidding_ ’ or ‘ _it was all for fun_ ’ or ‘ _Do you know the sun isn’t going to die for another 6 billion years. Good for us, huh?’_ and Houtarou doesn’t really pay attention because he’s heard it all before.

He wonders why Satoshi never gets tired of reusing and expending excuses. He’s about to return to his novel when he glances at Chitanda. It’s an involuntary action that doesn’t really serve any purpose, and something he can’t stop himself from doing as of late. And he’s doing it again. Excellent.

Surfacing from his own thoughts, he realises that Chitanda looks like she’s been caught in the act of something. She meets his eyes, flashes nothing less than a blinding smile, and directs her attention back to the editorial note she’s trying to write for the next _Hyouka_ publication.

Later, at the end of the day, after Satoshi and Ibara turn down some street to buy something that neither of them probably need at this very moment – Houtarou finds himself in the very promising situation of being alone with Chitanda.

They don’t usually talk unless there’s a need to – Chitanda’s only saving grace is that when she doesn’t have a question, she doesn’t make small talk in an attempt to fill up the gap of silence between them. She’s doesn’t find it unpleasant the way Satoshi does. It’s comfortable and saves heaps of energy. Houtarou cherishes these fleeting, peaceful moments the same way some kids cherish Christmas.

Today though, it feels more odd than anything else. Chitanda doesn’t make an effort to speak. He studies her profile and the angle of her shoulders and thinks that something is different. Houtarou wages a war of epic proportions within himself, complete with a soundtrack of drums and trumpets. Maybe he should try talking– but, no, why would he want to cause all this trouble for himself? Is he unconsciously masochistic somewhere? What constitutes masochism anyway? Will he need to find Ibara for further consultation on the matter? Will Ibara charge fees? – of course that woman would.

Chitanda looks over at him and offers him a quiet grin. Everyone drops their weapons.   

“So, about – Satoshi’s question…” Houtarou starts off strong but his voice slowly tapers off. Tilting his chin, he stares across the street. A mother is window-shopping while her elbow-tall son presses aggressively at a handheld console.  

“Ah, I can’t answer that now, Oreki-san,” Chitanda explains. “I mean, I-I don’t have an answer!”

He feels shortchanged. After all this time, setting aside segments of energy to answer hundreds of her questions, this is the reply he gets for his. Houtarou finds it incredibly unfair. Yet, he doesn’t dwell on it.

“Oreki-san, are you angry?” she asks suddenly.

Houtarou nearly hurts his neck when he whips his gaze back to her. “What gave you that idea?”

Chitanda looks embarrassed. She laughs a little and the corner of her mouth lifts, but she doesn’t say anything after that. Houtarou wonders if she’s not answering his questions on purpose, if she wants to add to the ever growing irony that is his high school life. Chitanda must be out to get him.

He stares at the sidewalk.

“No,” he says. Then, they part ways.

☀

Houtarou wakes up to the sound of rain hammering against his window. He blearily pushes his blanket off and looks outside to see how bad the storm is. The window is splattered with trails of raindrops. It’s hard to see more than a third of the street outside his house. The storm makes the sky a copper yellow and makes him feel like turning back to bed. He’s about 65% of the way there before his sister bursts into the room with unneeded fanfare, carrying no less than five teru teru bozus in her hands.

This is considered one of her less spontaneous wake-up calls.

On the soggy, slippery journey to school, he finds Chitanda struggling up the hill with a white umbrella and a rippling skirt. He doesn’t quicken his pace to catch up with her, content with staring at her back and avoiding conversation so early in the day. Of course, Chitanda has never agreed with his expectations of her. Houtarou confirms this as he watches her slow down and turn around. On sheer, sociable coincidence, she spots him. Chitanda immediately glues a hand to the edge of her skirt and waits for him beside a lamppost. She’s doing it again. Noticing him. It’s weird.

“Good morning, Oreki-san!” she says once he’s within earshot. She seems to be the only source of sunlight on this rainy day. Houtarou blinks.

“’Morning,” he replies before accidentally stepping into a puddle. Chitanda exclaims and worries over his wet shoes and the dreariness of rainy days on his behalf. Houtarou finds himself half agreeing and half not.   

They reach the school gates with no other casualties. She never slips on the pavement and her umbrella doesn’t get turned inside-out. A small part of him had actually been prepared for these things to happen – or, maybe, he’d been anticipating them.

Houtarou wonders when he’d been the type to waste energy trying to imagine things that weren’t even real, and realises that he’s been doing that for awhile now. How nice. He purses his lips and the grip on his umbrella tightens.

☀

During lunch break, Chitanda appears in his classroom. It almost offends him that none of his classmates turn their heads or break their conversations when she walks up to his desk and begins talking to him. Are they so used to her presence?

“Oreki-san! We’re having an official club meeting after school today!” Chitanda announces.

“I’m always in the room after school. You didn’t need to come all the way here to tell me that,” he says, and watches Chitanda’s excitement deflate. She quickly regroups and clenches her hands against his overwhelming logic.

“But, it’s an _official_ meeting,” she repeats, and beams at how well she’s exerting her authority as the chairperson of the club. Houtarou feels the corner of his lip twitch up. He rubs a hand against his mouth and nods, lowering his eyes to his desk.

“Alright! See you after school, then!” Chitanda returns the nod before whisking herself out of the classroom.  

His knuckles remain against his face until the bell rings.

☀

Satoshi rings his bicycle bell as he coasts to a stop beside Houtarou at the intersection. “How odd of you to be the one calling me out on a Sunday!” he says by way of greeting. Houtarou doesn’t need more salt on his wound. He responds to Satoshi with a grunt. His friend deflects with a laugh. For once, Houtarou wishes he had the energy to tip Satoshi’s bike over. But, nah, even picturing that calls for too much effort.  

As they make their way to the shopping district, Houtarou still isn’t sure of what he plans to do there. “Are you giving anything to Ibara on White Day?” he asks.

“Now, why would I do that?” Satoshi replies.

Houtarou raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet,” the boy changes his answer swiftly. He chuckles. “Why? Do you want to get Mayaka something too?”

“I’ll pass.” Forever.  
  
Satoshi’s bike grinds to a halt as a wide grin spreads across his face. There he goes again. Houtarou looks over his shoulder and gestures to the street ahead in a bid to get him moving again.

“I see! I see!” his friend says with confident smugness. He holds his arms and cups a hand to his chin, subjecting Houtarou to a onceover. “Finally doing something, are we, Houtarou? How does refreshing, youthful love feel like?”  

“Like you’re one to talk,” he grumbles.

Satoshi doesn’t retort for once. He pushes off a foot and overtakes Houtarou.  

☀

  
In the end, White Day comes and goes with nothing happening. Ibara’s cousin got married in America or something.

“Ew, that’s weird,” Ibara comments when she finds out that he remembered.  

Chitanda had gotten two confessions during the period – one from a boy in her class and another from a senior – and had very politely rejected them. Houtarou knows more than just the vague details of it. And it’s strange to think that it’s not because Satoshi or Ibara had asked for an elaboration. Chitanda is the one to divulge them. She doesn’t look too bothered by it, and from the way she’s reacting, it looks like this is her first time dealing with confessions.

“But, it was so brave of them!” she says, impressed, but probably not the way those two males want her to be. “Maybe I should go and apologise to them properly!” She’s halfway out of her chair before Ibara clamps onto her shoulder and manoeuvres her back into place.      

“For the third time in a row? You’re far too nice, Chi-chan,” Ibara advises her.

“They looked so sad, though. And they must have needed a lot of courage to do that,” Chitanda says, her voice still filled with a certain degree of reverence.

“Why didn’t you accept either of them?” Satoshi leans against the table and asks.

Houtarou freezes in the middle of turning a page. He quickly mats it down before the others can notice, and glances up from the book.

“Because I didn’t reciprocate their feelings,” Chitanda says sheepishly while Ibara throws a well-aimed punch at Satoshi’s arm.   

“I hope you don’t have any smart comments, Oreki.” How kind of Ibara threaten him.

“Don’t worry,” he tells her. “I wouldn’t waste energy on things like this.”

“Really, Oreki-san?”

Instantly, he feels three pairs of eyes on him. He places his book down.

“Isn’t there something else we should be discussing? Like, why they stopped serving curry in the canteen?”

“Ah right! About that – !” Chitanda rises onto her feet, attention snagged.

Since when had he been the type to go looking for questions to answer? Houtarou cringes inwardly.

☀

“Hey, Oreki.”

“Yes, Ibara?”

“Wow. I don’t understand what it is about you that annoys me so much,” Ibara says offhandedly.

“I’m aware of that. Thank you for reminding me,” Houtarou replies.

“No, you slug, that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.”

He sits up from the table and turns to address the girl properly. “What is it?”

Ibara stares at him from head to toe, reminiscent of Satoshi. “You don’t look any different.”

“That’s good to know.”

The girl opens her mouth, but whatever vengeful remarks she has, she swallows before collecting herself. “You’ve got to buck up, Oreki,” she tells him coolly.

“What for?”

Ibara rolls her eyes. “Just listen to me.”

“Naturally, Ibara.”

She graces him with one last icy stare before leaving the Geog Prep room, mumbling to herself.  
  
☀

“Ibara was being odd earlier this afternoon,” Houtarou says at the end of the day. Satoshi and Ibara had left early to attend to their respective club duties, leaving Houtarou the sanctity to plough through five chapters.

“In what way?” Chitanda asks, keen to know.

“She said something about bucking up,” he explains, yawning behind one hand.

Chitanda sits back against her chair and looks thoughtful. “I don’t think you need to, Oreki-san. You’re fine just as you are.”

There. Right there exactly. She’s doing that thing again.

“Um.” He fingers the corner of his book and finds himself unable to return her gaze. “T-thanks, but, you don’t need to say things like that.”  

Chitanda shakes her head and refuses to look away from him.

“Oreki-san, about that question you asked me before,” she begins to say.

“What question?” It takes him awhile to recall that there has only ever been one prominent question. He pulls at the collar of his uniform.

Chitanda reads the expression on his face. “Yes, that one,” she says sweetly.

“You don’t need to answer that, Chitanda, I was kidding when I asked you that,” he says quickly. “I mean, no, we shouldn’t joke about things like that, but you don’t need to tell anyone anything if you don’t want to, it’s completely fine if you want to keep it to yourself, I would myself – I mean, I would understand –” he stops to catch his breath, and realises that he’s using a lot more energy than he should. It’s always the case when it comes to Chitanda. “I mean.” He doesn’t know what he means. He gives up.  

Chitanda is unmoving. She tucks her hair behind her ear and reigns in her calmness. When she places her hand on the table, it’s too close to his. They’ve held hands before, but why does Houtarou feel like this is the closest their hands have ever been?

“Oreki-san, may I answer?” she asks.

Houtarou inhales. When did he become unable to say ‘no’ to Chitanda?

☀


	8. Tides We Will Steer (Satoshi/Mayaka, Houtarou, Chitanda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But, just for once, he thought, maybe, things would be better if they had stayed normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (old notes:) This was a bday present for a friend: Dan, thank you for being there to cry/vomit/sob/haemorrhage over these two with me, but more importantly for being a reliable and incredible friend!!
> 
> Also w o w first fic where I follow canon!verse and talk about satoshi/mayaka getting together during summer break. Also based (vaguely, I am sorry!!) off a prompt an anon gave me: “could you write something about the beginning of their relationship as an official couple, when they are still too embarassed or not used to the fact that they can actually act like bf/gf and hold hands without things get awkward (: ”

Mayaka took the lead again. Satoshi relied on her to do it, and yet, he wondered if she would ever get sick of it.

Until then, he’d take what he could.

 ☼

After Valentine’s and that long, difficult phone call, Mayaka’s accusing looks lessened. They didn’t stop completely, but she was a little less angry, a little more peaceful, and even more patient than she usually was. Satoshi wondered how long more he could hold her off, because even when she wasn’t pushing, he could feel the weight of her heart against his and how his defences had been weakening.

Summer break descended on them, and he could feel Mayaka cornering him with every Saturday spent studying together or exploring somewhere new he couldn’t resist. He could feel that he was purposely leaving openings for her do that.

Finally, one day, when they were browsing through a book store, and Mayaka saw the latest volume of her favourite shoujo displayed on the shelves, she looked at him. She gave him a few seconds of silence to change the topic, but Satoshi, despite everything, didn’t, and that was it.    

“So, we’re together now, aren’t we?”

“Sure!” he told her, laughing to ease the tension.

Mayaka looked angry. “Take this seriously,” she said, glancing away self-consciously. Satoshi wished he knew how to take that away from her. He took a lot from her. The only things he didn’t take were the things that should be taken away.

Still, he could see the corner of her lip lift slightly, fighting against her pride. She was happy. This was unfamiliar. He had to think of a way to change the topic.

“Do you want to get this?” He took one of the new volumes, wrapped in plastic, and examined the spine. “They might sell out by the end of summer if you don’t.”

“Don’t change the topic,” Mayaka mumbled, tolerating. She took the manga from him anyway, her hand brushing against his, hot but not as angry as he expected it to be.  

 ☼

The mall was packed, the usual Saturday crowd only strengthened by the tide of youths unleashed by summer break. Satoshi inched between elbows and shoulders, wondering if it had been a good idea to choose to go to the craft store today. He looked over his shoulder to see how Mayaka was faring. She squeezed through the gaps between people and under raised arms, stretching her hands in front of herself.  Satoshi closed his hand over hers, preparing to apologise for asking her to accompany him –

“W-what are you doing?!” Mayaka’s hand sprang open under his fingers.

Satoshi didn’t really know what to say to that. “Holding your hand?” he tried, and Mayaka’s cheeks darkened to an indignant red. Her hand calmed down, closing around his again.

“I thought it would be okay, since– ”

Mayaka jabbed at his shoulder with the heel of her free hand, warning him. The sight of her reacting so strongly made Satoshi’s face feel hot too. It became hard for him to pretend that it had been an easy thing for him.

She let him walk first through the crowd, railing at him when he made a wrong turn. He was distracted by the fact that he was doing something he’d always thought was both natural, and something he’d never let himself do.

Mayaka took it upon herself to take the lead.

 ☼

“Maya-chan, which flavour do you want?” Chitanda asked.

The two girls stood next to the ice cream cart, scrutinizing the plastic menu tied to the umbrella pole, discussing their plan of action in hushed voices. Houtarou sat on the bench with him, holding a plain vanilla ice cream cone.

“We came all the way out to the beach, Houtarou! Why did you choose such a normal flavour?” Satoshi asked with a nudge. He admired his own selection of Neapolitan ice cream, wedged between waffle biscuits.

Houtarou wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I like it.”

“Well, it does suit you,” Satoshi chuckled. His friend grunted as he ate the ice cream. He was just a tad bit grouchy because of the heat and the rays of youthful energy the beach was awash with. Of course, the moment Chitanda had asked everyone to go to the beach together, Houtarou had zero probability of escaping his fate. He hardly even bothered to struggle against Chitanda anymore.

Strange, how alike they were sometimes.

Mayaka and Chitanda  rejoined them, their ice creams already beginning to waver under the heat. “I wanted to try that flavour too – ” Mayaka pointed at him “ – but Chi-chan convinced me to try Rocky Road instead.”

“I was curious about how different it would taste from normal chocolate,” Chitanda explained.

Satoshi held it out to Mayaka. “You can have some if you want!”

The girl smiled, but then, it gave way to a sudden, crimson realisation. “No, it’s, okay.”

Chitanda seemed to detect her discomfort. She tapped Houtarou’s shoulder and wordlessly the boy got up – not without sighing – to follow her.

“Mayaka, it’s fine,” Satoshi said once Chitanda and Houtarou had walked far enough ahead. “Are you emba – ”

She jolted at the hint of the word. Because she was wearing sandals, he could see her toes curl. “Don’t say anything,” she said.

He held what remained of his ice cream to her again without a word.

Mayaka inhaled. It was hard to discern the source of the redness of her cheeks under such heat. Her legs tensed, as if to say ‘fine!’ before she wordlessly exchanged her ice cream with his. Satoshi felt good. It was a foreign feeling around Mayaka.

* * *

 

Houtarou and Chitanda had wandered off somewhere else at the end of the day. She probably needed him to solve something for her: an abandoned lifeguard post, a float in the middle of nowhere, a surfboard split in half, its tail end missing.

Satoshi walked along the edge of the shore, feeling the cool tide push and pull across his feet. Once school started again, he wouldn’t have a chance to take a break like this for a very long time.

He heard Mayaka walking up to join him, having finished packing up their things. She stood, her feet small and bare, footprints sinking into the sand behind her.

“Today was fun, huh?”

“It was alright,” Mayaka said, strict as always, even when she was supposed to be relaxing. “It was funny to watch Houtarou attempting not to stare at Chi-chan’s swimsuit. That’ll never get old.”   

“He still hasn’t said anything, huh? That guy is far too lazy.”

“It’s not just because he’s lazy, right?” Mayaka said pointedly.  

Satoshi lowered his hands from the back of his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. It was half a lie and half a promise.

The girl folded her arms, turning over the answer from the thoughtful look on her face. The tide was getting higher, though the change was only slight. Satoshi had memorized the high and low tide periods on the bus ride here in the morning. It was so convenient to assign times to when the tide would be safe and when it wouldn’t. He wondered why the same couldn’t apply to a lot of other things.  

“… Are we okay like this?”

“It’s not too cold. But summer’s ending soon, huh?” Satoshi said.

Mayaka raised her chin, blinking. She took a breath, as if gathering the strength to say something, but at the last moment, decided to let him have his way this round. Satoshi wanted to say that he was relieved, but relief shouldn’t have felt so sharp.

He wondered if Mayaka could feel the same coldness when the waves washed over her ankles. It was both an amazing and terrifying thought.

 ☼

When Mayaka looked over her shoulder, it was no longer to see if he was still there. It was to see if he could keep up.

It was different. And Satoshi couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. It was different. But, just for once, he thought, maybe, things would be better if they had stayed normal.

 ☼

Just as he had predicted, on the first day back to school, he was thrown a bomb he had to dodge in the form of Tsurai’s nosiness.

“Hey, Fukube. Question: did you and that Ibara girl make it official over the summer?”

“What are you talking about, Tsurai-kun?” Satoshi asked.

“Figures. No offense, but you don’t look like the type to get a girlfriend.”

“No offense taken.” Satoshi smiled.

Ah, things were back to normal again.

* * *

 

Mayaka had taken the fall for his selfish personality too many times. Though she had no bruises on her skin to show for it, Satoshi kept track of the number of times she used to give him looks filled with hurt and betrayal and ultimately love. They were unmistakable.

So, he knew that she had found out what he’d said to Tsurai when she stood next to his shoe locker at the end of the week. Mayaka looked intimidating even though she was dwarfed by the group of boys that passed by her on their way out of school. Satoshi tightened the grip on his school bag, thinking, knowing, that they were only supposed to last till the end of summer.

She spared the students left in school from her outburst. “Let’s walk home together,” she said, her voice level as he took his shoes.

“I brought my bike to school today,” Satoshi told her as they exited the main building.

“So, you’re going to go ahead?” Mayaka asked, her eyelids lowered as she stared at the ground, lashes short and soft.

“No,” Satoshi said, surprised at how firm he sounded.

Mayaka hummed, pleased but far from being happy. Satoshi unchained his bike and they stepped past the school gates together.

* * *

 

Once she decided they were sufficiently far away, she opened her mouth. “Why did you say that?”

Satoshi wanted to be honest with her. She deserved at least that out of him. Though it was hard not to tell a lie to make things hurt less, Satoshi realised that now, it was harder to tell her things he didn’t mean. He was tired of taking and never giving anything but empty words to Mayaka. He missed seeing her when she was genuinely happy. At the root of it all, he was still selfish. He figured as much.

“Mayaka, I was alright being myself in school because I didn’t care what others thought of me. But now, if we’re together, people will talk about you too and I don’t want that to happen.”

“When has that stopped me from doing what I’ve wanted to?”

He chuckled. “That’s right.” Though Mayaka was scared of being talked about like any other high-schooler, she never let something as trivial as that stop her. She was a powerful force. In comparison, he seemed so half-hearted and weak. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to her.

“The only person whose opinion really matters to me is yours, Fuku-chan,” Mayaka said, daring and pushing through all the barricades he’d painstakingly built up again like they were nothing.

“Don’t say that,” Satoshi tried not to sound like he was pleading.

“What else do you want me to say, then?” Mayaka raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

He smiled at her, wondering why he could take so much. The bigger question was why Mayaka could give so much. It didn’t connect.

“Mayaka, I’m glad you like me. But I don’t deserve – ”

The girl immediately cut him off by ramming into his side. Satoshi banged against his bike and the other people steering themselves through the streets cast them an array of surprised looks.

“Stop – stop saying things like that! I thought we were through with that!” she almost shouted. 

“What I did on Valentine’s Day was… ” he couldn’t find the right word, or maybe, there were too many cruel words to use that he was spoilt for choice. Mayaka glared at him and he pressed his lips together.

“You’re going on about that again? It’s past, it’s gone, I won’t lie, it – it mattered to me, but,” Mayaka said, a piece at a time, frustration and honesty hanging off the pauses in her voice. Satoshi couldn’t think of anything to say to calm her down or change the topic, and, he realised, he didn’t want to interrupt her this time. Maybe he could afford to give himself a break. Just for once. Mayaka would want that too.

“ – You might not forgive yourself, but I do,” she said it so simply. It made him want to hold her close.

“And you may not like yourself,” she continued, “but at least remember that I like you.”

His bike clattered on the street. Satoshi wrapped his arms around Mayaka then. Her shoulders were even smaller than they appeared, and she was soft and light. The sensation contrasted against all the hard edges of her words and her determined, heavy stares.

“F-Fuku-chan!” Mayaka yelled, but didn’t struggle. “Fuku-chan, let go,” she hissed, “what if someone sees us?”

He had rested his head on the arm on her right shoulder. He paused before mumbling, “Satoshi.”

“What?”

He raised his head to look at her. “It’s Satoshi.”

Mayaka’s face burst like a firework into a marvellous shade of red. She bit down on her lip and collected herself, kneeing him in the thigh repeatedly. Satoshi didn’t let go of her though it sort of hurt.

“I’ll call you what I want to!” she cried out, and Satoshi began to release her then to apologise for teasing. He halted when he felt a pair of hands gripping onto the back of his uniform, securing him in place.

Mayaka’s face was down, staring at the tiny space between their shoes. A tiny laugh escaped him, and he hugged her again, wondering when he was going to think of things like this as normal. The girl wriggled out of his arms, reaching down to pick up his bike. She set it upright, leaning it against her tiny, sturdy hip.

When Mayaka eventually decided to raise her head, she blinked at him with shocking pink eyes. Satoshi realised that things would never be normal ever again, and that he didn’t really mind the thought at all.

 ☼ 


	9. Maybe If You Ask Nicely (Satoshi + Chitanda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He finds himself in an empty stairwell and knows that this is far from being a love confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I should actually write out my headcanon instead of ramble on about it. Chitanda can be merciless if she wants to!

★

“Fukube-san.”  
  
He leaned against the railing of the staircase, craning his neck to stare at the bare ceiling. “Yes, Chitanda-san?”

“… Fukube-san,” Chitanda cleared her throated and said once more. The way her voice put a discreet force into those words left him no choice but to look at her. She was standing across from him, heels together, hands cupped, her eyes set on him. 

“Yup?”  
  
The girl tried to lighten the mood with a gentle, almost polite smile. But, Satoshi knew that manners could matter little to Chitanda when there were other things on her mind. Mayaka did always have that effect on people.

Chitanda lowered her gaze briefly, like she was aware that calling him to meet her in the quiet stairwell had an embarrassing connotation behind it. The thought made Satoshi chuckle on the inside, but, even then, he couldn’t exactly feel happy about the current predicament he was in.

“I’m sure you understand why I asked you here.”  
  
“Is it about my part for the next Hyouka issue? I’m going to start working on it soon, honest,” Satoshi said with a laugh.

“I’m afraid not.” Chitanda looked up, the corner of her lip curving downwards, a slight but powerful change.

Well, it had been worth a shot.      

“Maya-chan was very upset today,” she said. Odd, how Chitanda could sound so angry without changing the sweet, birdlike tone of her voice. “She didn’t want to share with me the reason why. She was being silly, saying that she didn’t want to trouble me,” the girl sighed affectionately, before resuming her stance. “Do you know what happened, Fukube-san?”

Satoshi braced himself. “I can’t really say, Chitanda-san.” His fingers fidgeted with the drawstring of his pouch.

“Really, Fukube-san?”

Ah. He rarely disliked things. Yet, when it came to Chitanda and her habit of pressing, Satoshi found it easy to admit to himself that he disliked it, usually when it was aimed at him. He didn’t know how Houtarou had come to actually fall for this part of her. Houtarou baffled him at times, and this was 65% of the reason why.

Satoshi leaned back again, the cool edge of the railing digging into his back.   
  
“Maybe it has something to do with the Manga Club. Mayaka hasn’t been getting along well with a senior over there, or so I’ve been told,” Satoshi said, his gaze falling onto the empty floor between his shoes and Chitanda’s. While he was tapping his feet, Chitanda’s ones were stoic, glued to the ground.  

“I don’t think it’s about the Manga Club,” Chitanda said, straight and piercing despite her soft eyelashes and round cheeks. And then, without warning – “Fukube-san, I think it has something to do with you.”

Satoshi couldn’t dodge that.

“Would you mind telling me about it?” Chitanda asked, decorating her unrelenting interrogation with pretty manners and sweet decorum.

“I’m curious,” she finished with a smile.


	10. An Extra Shot, Please (Coffeeshop!AU; Mayaka + Houtarou)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Houtarou/Makaya, coffee shop AU

“Good morni-… oh. I take that back.”

Mayaka withdrew the smile she was preparing to give the moment the tall university student stepped up to the cash register. She’d seen him all too often around campus, but did her best to pretend that he didn’t exist, hard as it was considering that she’d seen him sitting in one or two of her classes. Just how bad was her luck? 

“The usual,” the young man yawned. In one efficient gesture, he placed the exact cost for a medium cup of black coffee on the counter. He never asked for anything else. No extra flavour, no ice, no milk or vanilla or cinnamon. Mayaka also noticed, irritatedly, that he never made any effort to engage in small talk even when the coffeshop was quiet and dreary - this seemed to be his favourite time to settle on a table in the corner and read a book.

By the fifth time she’d seen him dragging himself in here, Mayaka thought she had a pretty good idea of the kind of person he was - the kind she couldn’t stand. He never left his name for her, and she never asked, but gradually, she learned to deal with this. She had a penchant for handling these difficult kinds of boys.

“For the slug,” she announced as she placed the hot mug of coffee on the left counter. The boy responded to it, looking almost insulted.

Almost. Not quite there yet. 

Mayaka looked forward to the day where she’d finally get a reaction from him.


	11. These Old Wounds (Satoshi/Makaya)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "But I never meant to hurt you."

Does he really mean it? Satoshi has thought about this for a long, long time, and no matter what he tells himself, he knows that he can’t use this as a reason any longer. He’d always cheated, always did things that he thought Mayaka wouldn’t notice, things he could get away with – touch the inside of her wrist gently, accidentally, ask to borrow a manga she loved – and crossed his fingers, hoping he wouldn’t get caught in the act. But Mayaka has always been perceptive, and she has always known where to look.

Mayaka doesn’t forgive him for doing these things to her – she promises herself that she will never forget. She’s unrelenting and Satoshi wants to say that he loves that part of her, but he’s not allowed to.

At the end of everything, she stands there with her heart beating in her open palm. It is all bruised, but stitched and bandaged up. It has outlived many assaults, and she has not yet surrendered.

Satoshi wants to hold it in his hands, but once he does, all those old wounds may just reopen.


	12. Nothing Sweeter (Cook-off!AU Mayaka/Satoshi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: satoshi/mayaka, rivals on a cooking show AU

Thirty seconds left.

Mayaka returns her gaze to the pie cooling on her counter. Desserts have never been her forte, but she’s pretty confident this time – she’s pinned all her hopes on her mother’s undefeated apple pie recipe, after all. She wastes no time in frosting the crust, biting her lip in frustration when her hands shake. Why is she acting like an amateur now? Her nerves can take a backseat. She’s _got this_.

Beside her, Fukube is already drying his hands with a tablecloth, a smug smile beaming on his face. His cake is much more elaborate than what she’s plating: five layers tall, chocolate and vanilla alternating between tiers. The cherries and rainbow sprinkles make it look much too gaudy for her tastes, but Mayaka cannot truly fault him, because one thing that Fukube never forgets is to inject his personality into his cooking. He really cooks from his heart, which is what makes him such an irritatingly worthy rival.

Compared to his castle of a presentation, Mayaka’s dessert looks too homely. She takes a deep breath, steadies her hand, and flicks her wrist to complete the final swirl of frosting. The buzzer goes off, and she makes sure to give Fukube a sharp glare when he walks over to her side of the counter to better examine her dish.

“That smells good!” He nods at the apple pie.

“It tastes good too,” Mayaka informs him, wiping a smudge of buttercream off her finger.

“Of course,” the young man says with a short chuckle. He’s not mocking her or doubting her, and it only makes Mayaka want to try harder. She flicks her eyes to his tall cake and does not say anything because there is nothing bad to say about it, and she doesn’t want to give him the pleasure of a compliment.

But if Fukube thinks he’s going to outdo her just because his dish is bigger and brighter, he’s a pitiful soul who has never tasted her mother’s pie. Mayaka straightens her posture and waits for her name to be called.

….

“ _I can’t believe this!_ ” is the first thing that erupts out of Mayaka as she enters the backstage area.

Eru, another competitor, hurries up to her side as she undoes her apron. “What’s the matter, Mayaka-chan? You did well!”

Mayaka can tell that Eru is being honest, that she’s not trying to console her for the sake of it. Even though this young lady has always been the favourite to win the competition, she’s also the most modest out of the lot of them. It should grate on Mayaka, but this is already the fifth week, and Mayaka cannot feel anything other than comfort when she’s with Eru.

She clenches her teeth and grunts out, “… That Oreki won this round.”

“Oh!” Eru blinks. “That is unexpected, seeing that he always just does good enough to avoid elimination. But I believe everyone was surprised that he managed to produce such a nice soufflé. It must have required a lot of patience and effort.”

“Wrong!” Mayaka interjects, raising a finger into the air. “He finished his prep all so he could just sit twenty-five minutes in front of the oven and do nothing! That was why he chose to do it! His lazy ass got lucky this time!” She proceeds to point her finger at the aforementioned slug, who, as always, is the last to exit the set.

“Is that true?” Eru abandons Mayaka to run up to Oreki, her eyes shining with an urge to know the truth.

Oreki, upset that his personal space has been breached by her again, squints his eyes a little and nods. “The first thing that came to my mind when they said it was a dessert challenge was to do it. I really did just get lucky,” he monotones out before shuffling past them.

“Wait, Oreki-san! I’m curious! Could you at least let me know the recipe?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m sure it’s a good recipe!”

Oreki does not stop walking away, but he does slow down a little, enough for Eru to notice and grin and catch up to him. Watching the two of them leave, Mayaka can only shake her head at them. She looks over her shoulder when she hears someone else coming up to her. It’s Fukube.

“Looks like we’ll have to settle our score in the next round,” he tells her.

“Yeah.”

“Well, that was a close shave for me. My cake was alright, but it wasn’t great. The judges were right about it,” he says with a sigh that’s trying not to sound as disappointed as it is. Mayaka’s heard it before, memorised it, because Fukube’s been through this situation so many times and Mayaka is always left puzzled by why he can restrain himself so much. She doesn’t even know how to ever hold herself back.

She taps the heel of her shoe against the floor and does not look up at him. “It was a good cake. All those flavours, not everyone could pull it off, you know? Give yourself a little credit.”

She watches his shadow shift a little to the left and hears him laugh.

“You could tell yourself that too.”

“What?” Mayaka raises her gaze and eyes him with severity, forgetting to be self-conscious. “What do you mean?”

Fukube shrugs. “I mean, you’re pretty tough on yourself too, Mayaka. We cook completely different dishes, but I guess we have this one thing in common.”

She tightens her hands into fists, catching the scent of cinnamon lingering on Fukube. It’s the kind of spice she would never use in her cooking, and she feels herself yearn for its taste.

“Don’t – don’t talk to me like that. We’re supposed to be rivals!” she sputters.

Fukube raises an eyebrow before easing another smile on his face. “Right, right. Slipped my mind.”

“Stuff like this shouldn’t slip your mind. Are you alright?” Mayaka asks, not with a worried voice, but with a scolding one.

Fukube doesn’t seem to care. He pauses, waits for the words to evaporate, and takes one step forward. She does not take one step back.

“Hey, Mayaka?”

“What, Fukube?”

He smiles at her.

“Wanna go out for dinner?”

“We’re rivals,” Mayaka reminds him again, rolling her eyes because she feels like she should.

“Yeah. So, can we go out for dinner?”

Mayaka has runs out of reasons to reject him. 


	13. Silk Spider Noodles (Dungeon Meshi!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It tasted like a mix between chicken and fish. — Dungeon Meshi AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually don't think you need to have read Dungeon Meshi/Delicious in Dungeon to understand this, but it's a really fun and lovingly detailed manga that has been licensed by Yen Press! You can find the first two volumes in the series available in English as of the time of this post, and I urge you to buy it and read it if you like dungeon crawling in a motley crew, cooking manga, or a wonderful combination of both!

“What do we do?! What do we do?!”

“Calm down, Mayaka, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“How can you say that, Fuku-chan? We have to get back in the dungeon right now!”

“I can’t stop you once you’ve made up your mind, but don’t you think we should wait for Houtarou to wake up? I doubt either of us want to drag his limp body around.”

“… You have a point. He’s already a burden enough as is.”

It wasn’t the most pleasant thing to wake up to, but the loud chattering made Houtarou stir from heavy unconsciousness. The soft grass cushioned under his cheek and the gentle breeze ruffling through his hair told him that he was no longer in the dungeon. When had they resurfaced?

He grunted as he pushed himself up onto his knees, squinting at the blinding sunlight. He hadn’t felt the warmth of daylight in a while, having trekked down the dungeon floors for the better part of a week. Fragments of memories slowly cropped back into his mind: they had been low on food, but Tomoe had insisted that they push on as they were close to the dragon. And then, the next second, the beast was in front of her and the four of them had never been so unprepared for anything in their dungeon-crawling lives.

Granted, it hadn’t been that long since the four of them had started their little guild. Aside from Tomoe, their group wasn’t very experienced. He remembered a stream of fire raining down on them and falling back onto his hands, glinting yellow eyes staring down at him, and the sharp force between his shoulders as his sister shoved him out of the way before the dragon could clamp onto him.

Tomoe.

“Good to see you’re awake, Houtarou,” Satoshi said as he walked over, his armour clinking with each step.

“Took you long enough! We need to go and save Tomoe, right this instant!” Mayaka was next to him, far less hospitable as she crossed her arms. 

Houtarou blinked, still trying to register what had happened. His body felt drained, not just from that one-sided fight with the dragon, but from lack of proper rest and food. He wouldn’t have been able to cast a teleportation spell. It must’ve been his sister. Did she not have enough magic left to send herself back as well?

“We won’t be able to make it back down,” he said softly, more to himself than to his two companions. Soil pressed against his palms as he collected his thoughts. “We don’t have enough equipment or food to go on, or money to buy what we need,” he explained, louder this time.

Satoshi nodded in agreement while Mayaka gritted her teeth.

“Well, what do we do, then? We can’t dillydally while Tomoe’s down there all by herself,” Mayaka clenched her hands into determined fists. “We’ve got to save her from the dragon.”

 _More like save the dragon from her_ , Houtarou thought. Mayaka seemed to have forgotten that it was all because of Tomoe’s wild idea that they had even ventured straight into the dragon’s nest. It was kind of nice, not having his sister to boss him around for once. They didn’t need to worry that much since she was a gifted spell-caster. She had probably gotten herself out of trouble as easily as she had gotten them in trouble. Still, he had enough of a heart to know that he would feel guilty if he didn’t do anything. 

Houtarou stood up and brushed the dirt off his robes. “I have an idea,” he said, holding his wooden staff out to Mayaka. The wary half-foot took it only after a moment’s hesitation, as Houtarou handed whatever was left in his rations pack to Satoshi.

“What idea do you have up your sleeve this time, Houtarou?” Satoshi asked, his lips quirking into a mischievous smile.

“You two can sell off my gear and get the money you need to save my sister,” Houtarou began. “I’ll just wait in town for—”

Mayaka slammed his entire staff on the ground before he could finish. “Don’t find an excuse to slack off, you pointy-eared slug!”

Satoshi burst out laughing as Houtarou bent over to pick up his abandoned weapon. Well, it was worth a try. He had never been keen on exploring the dungeon anyway, and still missed his day job in town, working comfortably as an elven scribe. But he couldn’t leave Tomoe or Satoshi alone when they’d decided to take on the dungeon, despite his wish for a peaceful, energy-conserving life.

“Hey, you two, I have an idea,” Satoshi piped up as he recovered from his laughing fit. He pulled Mayaka and Houtarou close to him so that they were huddled together. Mayaka was blushing from the closeness, whereas Houtarou was sweating from it. Satoshi ignored both of them as he continued, “We’re all starving aren’t we? Plus, we don’t have any money left for food. Why not we try hunting for something in the dungeon? Here, let me show you my list…” Satoshi reached for the pocket under his armour.

Houtarou whacked Satoshi’s hand with his staff. “Not happening.”

Mayaka stood back and sighed. “I hate to agree with him, but are you sure, Fuku-chan? We don’t know what side effects we’ll get if we eat something from in there.” She tilted her chin towards the cavernous opening in the rocky outcrops behind them. 

“I knew you two were going to say that!” Satoshi cupped his hand to his chin and nodded. Then, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “Look, Mayaka, if you really want to save Tomoe as soon as possible, the only way we can do that is to head back in right now. And the only means for us to survive in there with what we have now is to get our rations directly from the dungeon.”

While Mayaka furrowed her brow and bit her lip in frustrated agreement, Satoshi turned to Houtarou. “And as for you, Houtarou, don’t you think it would conserve energy for us to cook some dungeon grub, instead of, say, walk the five miles back to town to restock on empty stomachs, and walk back here?” Satoshi took care to emphasise the walking distance.

“I stopped conserving energy the moment I agreed to this whole thing,” Houtarou mumbled unhappily, but did not object.  

Satoshi beamed. “How about you, Mayaka?”

“I’ll eat… but only if Houtarou taste tests the food first.”

“Alright, it’s settled then!” Satoshi decided.

Wait, shouldn’t he get a say in this?

But Satoshi had already lifted his bag onto his shoulders and was gripping his sword to his side. “Off we go to find some food!” He marched forward with a skip in his step.

Satoshi always knew how to get what he wanted from both him and Mayaka. Houtarou credited this to his sneaky human blood.

* * *

 

As their little trio journeyed through the first floor of the dungeon, Houtarou wondered why he had ended up in front of the pack. With Tomoe gone, shouldn’t Satoshi be the one leading them? But the young knight was buried in the pages of his notebook, muttering to himself, while Mayaka brought up the rear, as quiet as a mouse, drawing a dagger from underneath her leather vest.

“There should be some mushrooms here we can use to cook with. We can also find scorpions and salamanders on this level. What do you think would go well with mushrooms?” Satoshi rattled off, his voice brimming with excitement. Houtarou eyed him suspiciously, wondering when the knight had developed this obsession with dungeon creatures. Was this the reason why he kept that notebook around and scribbled in it all the time?

“What’s that, your database of dungeon food?” Houtarou asked in a pale attempt at teasing.

“Yup! How’d you guess? I’ve been writing down whatever we’ve seen and noting whatever properties I could. But I’m no chef, so I have no idea if any of these taste good, or are even edible to begin with,” Satoshi answered with no hint of embarrassment.

“Guys, I think we’re being followed,” Mayaka interrupted them. She glanced over her shoulder, into the eerie darkness of the passageway behind them. The light from Houtarou’s staff couldn’t touch further than a few paces behind her. “It doesn’t sound like a monster, but keep your guard up.”

“Let us know if it gets too close,” Satoshi told her with a reassuring grin. “We’ll reach the plaza in a bit. Let’s try to get something to eat before then.”

Mayaka closed her eyes and leaned her head to the wall. Houtarou thought he saw her ears twitch. “Well, I hear a group running towards us up in front, to the left,” she said. “I can’t really tell what they’re running from, though.”

Satoshi drew his sword and tucked his notebook into his belt. “Well, we’ll just have to find out!” he said, as the cacophony of frantic footsteps finally reached them, and a group of unseasoned adventurers rounded a corner before them.

“Sorry, but could I ask what is it—” Satoshi cut himself off as the group bolted past him, too frazzled to stop and speak. One of the elves nearly fell over as he passed them, and hurriedly shook something off his leg before catching up with his team.  

Under the light of the fire he held from his staff, Houtarou noticed curious-looking threads drifting in the air where the elf had tripped, glistening in and out of his vision. He reached out to touch it. It coiled around his index finger with stubborn stickiness.

“What’s that?” Satoshi peeked over Houtarou’s shoulder.

“I’m not sure. Must be related to whatever they were running from.”

“Um, guys, I think we have the answer.” There was an uncharacteristic tremble in Mayaka’s voice.

Houtarou and Satoshi looked up, to see not one, or two, but eight spindly legs, and a very angry-looking spider emerge from the passageway. It was almost as big as Mayaka, which, granted, wasn’t that big, but much larger and meaner than an average spider at least.

As the spider advanced towards them, Satoshi charged forward with his sword raised.

Houtarou fumbled with his staff, trying to remember the proper incantation to launch a fireball. He cringed as he realised that it was going to be a mouthful and surely not worth the effort. Mayaka nudged him in the ribs when she caught him pausing.

“Alright, alright,” he huffed, stepping back and taking careful aim with his staff so that he would only need to cast the spell just once.

* * *

 

“So, what do we have?” Satoshi asked as they unpacked their rations onto a rolled out mat at the beginner’s plaza.

“A walking mushroom, some herbs we picked outside, three leftover packets of dried noodles from last week, and… a dead spider,” Mayaka faltered at the last item on the list.

The spider had attracted everyone else’s attention as they brought it with them into the crowded plaza. Satoshi had insisted that bugs were a good source of nutrition, and when Houtarou and Mayaka had refused, Satoshi had single-handedly heaved it along until Mayaka and Houtarou had no other choice to help. Houtarou’s hands were still sticky from whatever residue was left on the spider’s legs. He rubbed it half-heartedly against his pant leg, earning a judgemental side-eye from Mayaka, who had taken out her own pristine handkerchief to clean up.

“Look at it this way, Houtaoru effectively fried it! We could probably eat it right now if we wanted,” Satoshi said with a good-natured laugh. Houtarou wondered how the guy could remain optimistic on an empty stomach, and was almost thankful that Satoshi was part of their team. Almost.

“Let’s cook it a bit more first, just to be sure,” Mayaka said.

“Are we really eating this?” Houtarou couldn’t believe that Mayaka was going along with Satoshi’s eccentric idea. He considered the spider once more, rolling it over to look at the orange markings scattered on its otherwise black body.

“I’m too hungry to complain anymore,” Mayaka said, clutching her stomach.

“Okay, we’ll boil the noodles and mushrooms, and have the spider as a side dish.” Satoshi got up to collect water from the central fountain, while Mayaka unwrapped the noodles, which had been bundled tightly with leaves. At least they were keeping the spider separate from the food.

“Hey, Houtarou, why don’t you use some magic to make sure it’s cooked all the way?” Mayaka suggested.

“It’s tiring to use magic,” he reminded her for the umpteenth time since they’d first met, stowing his staff to the side to show that he wasn’t going to waste any more of his energy.

Mayaka glared at him. “How else are we going to get rid of any poison?”

Houtarou pulled at his bangs, wondering if he should bother to explain. Mayaka’s eyes did not stray, and so he took a deep breath in and said, “It’s not poisonous. Markings on the body are sometimes used to indicate poison, but it’s just as likely that it’s used as a way to ward off predators by tricking them into thinking they’re poisonous.”

“Why are you so sure it’s one over the other, then?”

Houtarou gazed down at his pant leg. The remnants of the spider’s thread were still stuck to it. “The way it traps its victims is using its sticky webbing. If it was poisonous, we would’ve seen the group we bumped into paralyzed on the ground, instead of running away from us.”

Mayaka didn’t bite back, which was one of the few things that Houtarou tolerated about her. She would never deny it when she knew she was in the wrong.

“Fine. It seems like your lazy brain is worth something after all. But what’s the problem if I just want to make sure it’s cooked all the way through?”

Thankfully, just then, a stranger approached them. They wore a two-horned helmet which obscured most of their features. They had long, thick hair that cascaded past their waist and clear eyes that seemed to burn with intense interest.

“Forgive me for intruding, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Are you going to cook this spider?”

It was a female dwarf, and a tall one at that. She seemed to be as tall as Satoshi. What gave her roots away were her simple gladiator sandals and the handmade fur-lined armour she wore. Perhaps she was mixed.   

“We were planning to,” Mayaka answered, narrowing her gaze at Houtarou once more.

“Oh, I don’t think you can use fire magic on it. You won’t be able to cook it all the way through. You’ll need to break it down first,” the stranger explained. Without hesitation, she hopped over to the charred carcass of the spider to demonstrate, just as Satoshi returned from the fountain.

“The feet are very thin, so you can break them off and grill them to dry the sticky outside so that they’re easier to eat. As for the body and head, that’s where the tender meat is. You could use them to cook some silk spider noodle soup!”

“That sounds amazing!” Satoshi was almost salivating. “Could you show us how to cook the spider, Miss?”

The dwarf’s eyes crinkled with kindness. She removed her headgear, revealing a pale but pleasant face underneath, framed by lustrous hair. Houtarou instinctively lowered his gaze, not quite understanding why.

“It would be my utmost pleasure!”

* * *

 

Houtarou sat aside as the stranger laid out all the ingredients and added some of her own: two tiny bottles of salt and pepper, and a jar of what appeared to be clear slime. She drew out an intimidating cleaver from her gear and proceeded to use it to divide the spider into smaller pieces. First, she sliced off the eight legs from the main body, before cutting them up so that they were shorter than a palm’s length.

Satoshi was now her assistant. He diligently gathered the chopped up bits and laid them out on a makeshift grill they’d assembled over the fire. Mayaka had grudgingly started it after Houtarou said he’d run out of juice for the day.

“Just let them grill for a minute or so, and then we’ll replace it with a pot of water to boil,” the dwarf instructed, her tone gentle yet firm.

She proceeded to separate the spider’s body into quarters, then each quarter into five clean chunks. She did the same with the spider’s head.

By this time, Satoshi had removed the grill and replaced it with a pot of water. As they waited for the water to boil, the dwarf counted out portions with her fingers.

“Let’s see, we’ll just need half of this to serve four,” she concluded.

Mayaka scooped up the remaining spider meat into a bag that they usually used to carry their meats, emptied since two days ago when they had had their last bite of chicken. Houtarou never knew he could miss the taste of chicken so much.

As the water bubbled, the dwarf poured a disconcerting amount of slime into the pot before adding the noodles. She took the chopsticks Satoshi offered and stirred the noodles thoroughly to loosen them. Then, she carefully plopped the spider meat, one piece at a time, into the mixture, followed by the thinly sliced mushrooms and herbs. She stirred the contents of the broth once more before covering it with a metal lid.

“There we go! Now, we just have to wait for about ten minutes for everything to cook,” she chirped. “In the meantime, you can help yourselves to the grilled spider legs.”

She drizzled salt and pepper over the dish before holding the plate out to Houtarou, who, despite his hunger, raised his hand to decline. Mayaka seemed reluctant to eat as well. Even though the legs now looked more akin to chips, there was a distinct layer of spider fur that Houtarou could not imagine away.

Satoshi took one and chomped onto it without any warning. Mayaka jerked upright, while Houtarou grabbed his staff out of impulse.

And then, Satoshi took another one, and then another. He was happily eating away, much to Houtarou’s relief and irritation.

“Delicious!” the young man said, completely won over. “I never imagined spider legs to be so crunchy!”

“Oh yes, it all depends on whether you can find a big enough spider. Your group was lucky to have hunted this specimen down. I simply had to find out for myself how you would cook it when I overheard you in the dungeon,” the dwarf said, cupping her hands together shyly.

“Ah, so that was you,” Mayaka said as she carefully picked up a spider leg.

“Yes! I didn’t know when would be a good time to introduce myself, you see. I’m terribly sorry for tailing you!” the dwarf ducked her head in apology. Mayaka patted her on the shoulder to show that it was no big deal to them. 

“How rude of us!” Satoshi said with his mouthful of spider legs, completely unaware of how he looked. Houtarou suppressed a tired sigh, his eyes drifting over to the remaining pile of… food in front of him. Mayaka had finally eaten one of them, her hand over her mouth. She kept her comments to herself, chewing thoughtfully.

“I’m Satoshi, the de-facto leader of the group.”

When had they decided on this?  

“This here’s Mayaka, the toughest lock-picker, trap-detector and monster-stabber you’ll ever find.” Satoshi gestured to Mayaka, who tried her best not to show that she liked it when he spoke fondly of her.

“And that quiet guy over there isn’t a statue, but Houtarou, our designated mage and wise-cracker,” the human finished with a smug grin.

Houtarou didn’t say anything, if only to prove Satoshi wrong.

“It’s very nice to meet all of you.” The dwarf bowed in her seat. “I’m Chitanda.”

“Ch-Ch-Chitanda?!”

Satoshi leaned forward, nearly knocking the boiling pot over. “Do you mean you’re from _that_ clan?”

What was he going on about this time?

The knight noticed Houtarou’s confused expression and quickly shifted his attention. “Haven’t you heard of the four rising powers of the dungeon, Houtarou?” Satoshi asked in a niggling voice. He whipped his notebook out of his belt in a flourish.

“Nope.” Houtarou was perfectly content with his ability to not to get bogged down by current affairs.

“Listen up! There’s the Irisu clan, a family of elves who’ve made a fortune providing healing and corpse retrieval services throughout the dungeon; the Tougaito clan, an infamous band of orcs who’ve colonised the lower floors; the Juumonji clan, priestesses who provide blessings and curse-warding talismans to adventurers in towns above ground; and lastly, the Chitanda clan, who’ve been mining ores and other relics from the dungeon since the very beginning.” Satoshi snapped his notebook shut confidently.

“Yes, that would be me. Or should I say, my father,” Chitanda said with a weak smile. Her hands, so skilful minutes ago, were now fidgeting nervously in her lap.

“That’s amazing! Who would’ve thought that the Chitandas would have expertise even in dungeon food!” Satoshi said. “Though, I guess that it wouldn’t be odd, given that you’ve been down here all this time.”

“You’re half-correct,” Chitanda said, gathering her hair behind her ear. “My father is focused on mining but I… I’m much more interested in the agriculture of the dungeon.”

“I see, that’s why you’re so knowledgeable about cooking.”

Chitanda shook her head. “I’m still learning myself, I’ve never actually cooked such a giant spider before—the only reason was because I overheard Sir Houtarou’s explanation about the spider’s markings. I had always assumed it would be poisonous, but I suppose I still have much to learn.” The dwarf offered him a smile, and Houtarou could only mutter, “It was nothing,” before stuffing a spider leg into his mouth in a frantic bid to avoid conversation. He was never good with being the centre of attention, nor had he ever felt that his stray observations could be useful.

The spider leg had a mild flavour to it, and went down his gullet without much resistance. Houtarou exchanged glances with Mayaka, who was also surprised by how… normal it tasted.

Chitanda clapped her hands as she saw the lid of the pot tremble. “I think it’s ready!” she said as she opened the pot.

The broth glistened. A strong aroma engulfed Houtarou as he inched closer to the centre of their circle to get a better look. Chitanda added a dash of salt into the soup before scooping portions out into their bowls with her wooden ladle. The wheat noodles were extra silky, probably because of the slime that had been added. The spider meat also looked less menacing now that it was white and fleshy.

“Here you go!” Chitanda said, thrusting a bowl filled with ingredients to him.

Houtarou accepted it with a tuck of his chin. “Thanks…” he managed to say, as Satoshi and Mayaka both dug into the noodles. The sight of proper food must’ve gotten their ravenous appetites going again.

As the savoury smell of the noodles got to him, Houtarou found it difficult to refuse his stomach any longer. He took a cautious sip of the soup first, and was surprised by the layers of flavour that came from the mushrooms, herbs and spider all blending together. There was a delicate freshness to the broth. He then nibbled at the noodles—tasty and smooth—before taking a bite of the meat. It was completely different from the leg. In fact, it tasted like a mix between chicken and fish.

“It’s… good,” he found himself saying. “Thank you for the meal,” he turned to Chitanda and said, hoping that his voice was loud enough. He attributed the complete exhaustion he was feeling to all that he had gone through the last few days. This warm bowl of soup was doing wonders already.

“Chitanda, I know this is a huge request, but would you like to join us?” Satoshi asked as he slurped finished one last mouthful of noodles. He had already finished his bowl, and was now going in for seconds.

“Wait a minute,” Houtarou started.

“You would be a big help! We’ve lost our comrade to the dragon, you see, and we need all the help we can get to save her!” Mayaka added.

Chitanda’s eyes sparkled at the mention of the dragon. “You mean you’ve seen the legendary dragon of the lower floors? Oh, I’ve wanted to meet it my entire life! Are its scales really the colour of roses?”

She made the deadly dragon sound like some popular tourist attraction.

“What do you want to do, cook it?” Houtarou asked, and immediately regretted his words.

“Oh! That sounds like a fun challenge!” Chitanda said with a smile that rivalled Satoshi’s. Houtarou knew, without a doubt, that he had gotten himself into something that he would be hard pressed to escape from. Chitanda closed the gap between them as Houtarou placed his empty bowl on the floor, raising his hands out in defence.

Chitanda clasped onto them. Her hands were rough from years of living in the dungeon, yet her grip was soft and warm.

“Of course, we shouldn’t kill the dragon if we can help it. I’m just as interested in exploring what else is beneath us. What lies at the bottom of the dungeon? What other foods are there that we can cook and eat? I need to know!”

Houtarou could no longer look away from her unblinking, earnest eyes.

“… I’m curious!”

 


	14. The Birthday Curse (Mayaka + Houtarou)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: mayaka/houtarou, kiss with a fist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little something for the holidays! It's actually about 2 months old and is inspired from a prompt given to me by AQ, but I took it out and dusted it up so that I could post something concrete here before the end of 2017. It's been fun returning to writing this year, and I hope I'll be able to continue writing next year too!
> 
> FYI this takes place in Year 2, before Volume 5 (which I haven't read in its entirety). On birthdays, Chitanda's is on 24 Apr, Houtarou's is 28 Apr and Mayaka's is 23 May, at least, according to their character pages online!

On Mayaka’s seventeeth birthday, she willfully locked herself away in the Geography Prep room. Who else was going to proofread the articles for their latest issue of Hyouka? Fuku-chan was careless and disliked reading the same things over again, Chi-chan had already done tremendous work, having written nearly half of the volume, and Oreki… he wasn’t even part of the equation. Mayaka had taken it upon herself by elimination. The only thing she hadn’t factored in was that the manuscript needed to be sent to the printers the day after her birthday.

Fuku-chan had reminded her about their afterschool date during lunch, and frowned slightly at the reason behind her last-minute rejection. And then, instead of persuading her to abndon her responsbility, he said, “Mayaka, you always put others before yourself, even on your own birthday!” He even tacked on a laugh after that! She would’ve given him an earful if he hadn’t added, “That’s what’s amazing about you,” before swinging his drawstring bag over his shoulder and telling her to call him when she was finally done with work.

As the door to the clubroom slid aside, Mayaka kept herself hunched over the stack of papers, eyes glued to the fifth essay she was checking. She already knew who it was since Chi-chan was out running family errands. What she didn’t expect was to see the perfect tip of a G-pen enter her periphery. Oreki had nudged the transparent case towards her without a word, and was now depositing himself on the opposite corner of the table.

“W-What’s the meaning of this?” Mayaka asked, not quite sue what to make of it. This was the kind of high quality pen manga artists used to draw. She’d mentioned offhandedly about getting one before, but that had been a month ago, when Fuku-chan had grilled her about how her hobby was coming along.

Oreki, who was already leaning into his latest paperback novel, spared her only a brief, lazy glance. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

At those uncharacteristics words, Mayaka leapt onto her feet and stormed over to him. Then, she began jabbing the convincing imposter with her fists.

“Who are you and what did you do with Oreki Houtarou?!” she shrilled out. “Oreki wouldn’t do something so… so..” she paused, and then sputtered out, “–thoughtful.”

Oreki, who was now using his book as a shield, looked offended at the insinuation that he’d expended effort to get the gift. “I asked Satoshi where to get it, and it was just down the road from my house. No need to be concerned.”

“I’m not concerned, you slug!” Mayaka shot back, pummeled her hands against his upper arm a few more times, before realising that she was being rude, even by her usual standards with Oreki. She lowered her hands, unballing them as Oreki’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“No. What I should be saying is ‘thank you’, but… that’s not fair! You totally caught me off guard!” Mayaka crossed her arms tightly, tilted her chin away from him, before closing her eyes and muttering, “Thank you.”

Instead of being moved, Oreki had already turned his attention back to his book. “I had some extra pocket money from my sister. I figured it would be better used on someone who expends way more energy than I do.”

Even when he was trying to be nice, Oreki was cursed by his painful lack of conversational skills. Mayaka pressed her lips together as she shuffled back to her chair, took up her red pen, and resumed circling mistakes in the text. She wanted to get back to work as quick as possible, to have a reason to stop thinking about Oreki’s gift. She knew that he’d been changing in the littlest of ways ever since he’d met Chi-chan. She just didn’t know that those changes would ever mean a thing to her.

Perhaps this was Oreki’s way of getting revenge on her for what happened last month. Yes, that was it! For his seventeenth birthday, Mayaka, Fuku-chan and Chi-chan pooled together their savings and bought Oreki a new pair of running shoes. It had been Fuku-chan’s idea, and trust him to know Oreki’s exact shoe size. Mayaka hadn’t wanted to spend a single cent on Oreki in most circumstances, but she felt like she owed him something after what he did on Valentine’s Day. Chi-chan needed no convincing, she was estatic at the thought of buying Oreki something that could be deemed useful. Oreki didn’t have running shoes as far as anyone was concerned. Did he need them? Well…

“You can wear them for the Hoshigaya Cup,” was all Fuku-chan said to Oreki on his birthday, an immovable grin on his face. Mayaka didn’t like being on the receiving end of Fuku-chan’s michevous grins, but she always revelled in Oreki’s unamused expression.

Yes, Mayaka should have seen this coming from a mile away. Oreki had been planning his revenge ever since then, and chose to strike when she was buried in work and least prepared!

However, the longer this deduction settled in her mind, the more the cracks started to show. In all her years of knowing Oreki Houtarou, she’d never seen him motivated to do anything even close to revenge. Revenge was supposed to be cold and calculating. She picked up the pen case and studied the G pen. If she was being honest, she couldn’t call this anything apart from a well-chosen gift.

The reality of the situation was throwing her off, and she didn’t have time for that now. She took a deep breath to find her focus, stowing the G pen in her bag for good measure. Oreki’s gaze, no longer glued to his book, did not escape her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Oreki deflected, with much more ease than how he would with Chitanda. The thought irritated Mayaka, but she didn’t want to linger on it for long. Instead, she made a deliberate show of pushing her chair away from the table and standing up once again, and that was enough to force Oreki to talk.

“I’m just impressed that you’re doing club admin on your birthday. You’ll be a workaholic when you grow up, Ibara,” was Oreki’s curt admission.

“It’s not by choice. We’re sending it to print in a day, in case you forgot.” She did not deny the workaholic comment.

“Ah. Right.” Oreki nodded. He put his book down and stretched hir gangly arms overhead. “If it’s just reading for mistakes, I can do it.”

Wait. Did he just volunteer to finish her work for her?

“I’ll repeat this one more time, who are you?!” the question burst out of her without hesitation.

“A normal boy whose birthday has already passed.”

Did Oreki just roll his eyes at her?!

Mayaka bit the inside of her cheek to keep her temper down. She couldn’t leave this room until she had the answer, and shouting at Oreki wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Taking a deep breath, Mayaka was able to bring her voice back down to a normal volume. “Why’re you being so nice all of a sudden, hm?”

“I’m only offering just this once,” Oreki said very carefully. “I’ll leave the manuscript on the table. You can make the last minute edits tomorrow. Satoshi’s waiting for you at the student council clubroom. You should go.”

Mayaka didn’t budge. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Don’t you want to go?” Oreki asked. It was also his half-assed way of saying that she was wasting his energy, and that he wanted this conversation to end, even if prematurely.

“Of course I want to! I’ve been waiting for this date the whole month!” Mayaka confessed, her cheeks flushing, but she didn’t care. Oreki had seen worse before. “But, I just…”

Oreki gave her a few seconds to finish her sentence, and when she didn’t, he closed his book and propped his chin on his hand. “You don’t trust me to do a good job.”

It was infuriating that he could say such a thing with such a blank expression. “You don’t have to say it like that,” Mayaka replied, folding her arms. She knew that Oreki was a good proofreader, ever since they were forced to be groupmates in middle school. It seemed that he took proofreading quite seriously, as he dreaded having to redo or rewrite assignments because of careless mistakes.

Finally, Oreki gave in when he realised that she valued understanding him more than ditching work on her birthday. He looked away, to the clear afternoon sky beyond the windows, as he said, “You and Chitanda are always taking on the work for the Classics Club, and believe me when I say that I don’t want to see that changing anytime soon. I’m doing this because Satoshi was giving me a headache with his whining. This is the option that is less detrimental for my energy reserves.”

“Alright.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough to satisfy Mayaka. She arranged the manuscript into two neat stacks and pushed them to Oreki’s side of the table. “These have been checked, these haven’t. I’ll come and collect them tomorrow morning. I’ve left the room key by the cactus. Remember to lock up.” Instructions disseminated, she scooped her stationery into her bag and hitched it onto her shoulder.

As Oreki took out his favourite mechanical pencil, Mayaka checked through the contents of her bag to make sure nothing was left behind. The G pen stared at her from between her notebooks.

“Thank you, Oreki.” It was easier, saying it the second time.

“Mm.”

Mayaka did not chatise Oreki for that lifeless and unappreciative sound. She decided to give him a break for once, turning on her heel and planning out the fastest way to get to the student council room.

“One more thing, Ibara.”

“Yeah?” She looked over her shoulder as she opened the clubroom door.

Oreki, who usually had no spine to speak of, who usually would be smart enough to value his life, looked up from the papers and said, “Happy birthday.”

She imagined decking Oreki Houtarou in the nose at that very moment. What a sweet, sweet birthday gift that would be. But Chi-chan found his ugly mug cute, for whatever reason, and Fuku-chan would never stop talking about it if that happened, and she still needed him to help her proofread. She wouldn’t have the time to clean up the blood, in any case, and she still had a date with Fuku-chan, and a manga to work on when she got home.

Instead, Mayaka stuck her tongue out and slammed the door shut behind her.  

 


	15. A Crying Spell (Houtarou/Chitanda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: things you said while I was crying, for theresa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a simple fic posted belatedly for vday!

He hadn’t expected it to come so easily, the tears.

“Woah, Houtarou. Are you doing okay?”

“Ew. Oreki, don’t get your tears all over the place.”

“Oreki-san! This is the first time I’ve seen you cry!”

Houtarou placed the halved onion and kitchen knife on the cutting board and said, “This doesn’t count.” He stepped away from the counter, knuckling the corner of his eyes. He was prepared for this to happen, and had intended to chop the onion without any unnecessary comments interrupting him. But—he was with Kamiyama High’s Classic Literature Club. It’d been foolish for him to hope to get away from this unscathed.

Chitanda offered a little chuckle as she corrected herself. “I suppose it doesn’t count, but it is the first time I’ve seen tears from you. Well, except from when you yawn.”

Satoshi snickered. “Houtarou definitely yawns way more than he cries, or smiles, or anything else!” He deflected Houtarou’s scowl with a wide grin and went back to running tapwater over the rice bucket.

Chitanda was preparing the fish, and Ibara the tempura batter for frying the vegetables later on. By elimination, Houtarou had been left the duty of cutting onions, for a simple vinegar and onion salad.

Wasn’t summer supposed to be lazier and more aimless than this? The last thing he had on his mind was cooking lunch with his friends. He usually ate instant noodles or whatever Tomoe concocted, and lazed the afternoons away reading and watching TV. Today, he was over at Chitanda’s for what he thought would be anthology-related matters. It shouldn’t have lasted more than two hours, which was already an excruciating amount of time to be doing work when there was no school. Chitanda did not spare him any pity. She invited everyone for lunch after the meeting was over without giving Houtarou an opportunity to excuse himself.

“We’ll cook with fresh produce all picked from the farm!” she’d said, with polite embarrassment. Satoshi and Ibara fell for it hook, line and sinker. And Houtarou, was, as usual, dragged along in their current.

“Speaking about tears, did you know that the human body produces up to 10 ounces of tears daily?” Satoshi quipped as he drained the water out of the rice.

“I feel like I have way more tears than that when I’m crying,” Ibara commented sharply as she beat the eggs with a pair of chopsticks. Even when she was acknowledging her weaknesses, she made it a point to behave as if she was in control. Houtarou couldn’t even control what time he woke up in the morning.

“Oh!” Chitanda cupped a hand to her mouth. “What makes you cry so badly, Mayaka-chan?” She snuck a brief but painfully obvious glance at Satoshi as this question hung in the air.

“Dramas, or really good manga,” Ibara said sheepishly. Chitanda nodded, looking relieved that it wasn’t what she’d expected. If Satoshi made her cry so easily, Ibara would have given up on him long ago. Houtarou would’ve said this if he had the energy, but whatever he was willing to expend was going towards onion-chopping now.

“When do you cry, Chitanda-san?” Satoshi asked, laughing as Ibara punched his arm and hissed ‘insensitive!’. “You’re always on top of things. And since we’re sharing—the last time I cried was when I went for my flu jab last year. I can’t stand needles!” Satoshi rubbed the same spot Mayaka had punched, shivering at the memory.  

Chitanda thought for a moment .“I can’t quite remember the last time I cried. Perhaps it was during our first year, when we discovered the truth behind Hyouka,” she said, sounding surprised by her own answer.

Houtarou rubbed the loose tears out of his eyes as he recalled that late afternoon in the librarian’s office. The single tear that rolled down her cheek as she thanked him for unlocking her uncle’s past, for answering her question—that had been the start of it all, hadn’t it?

“Oreki-san, what about yourself? I’m curious!”

He snapped out of his thoughts and came face to face with bright, burning eyes, now familiar but no less entrancing. No, maybe this had been the start of it all.

“I don’t know. I don’t really cry,” he coughed, angling away from her and facing the chopping board properly. He cut the onion into even finer pieces, complicit in the irony of how this only made him tear up even more.

“It’s true,” Ibara vouched for him from the other side of the counter. “I’ve never seen this guy shed a tear, not in elementary school or middle school or now. I don’t think he’s capable of it. You have to care about something to be able to cry.” She delivered her jabs seamlessly, like the brutal little drawf she was. And yet, she always said some pretty accurate stuff which meant that Houtarou had to explain less. Never change, Ibara.

“You can cry because you’re scared too,” Satoshi reminded her.

“Or because you’re overjoyed,” Chitanda said with a hopeful smile.

Crying without the help of onions was awful, wasn’t it? You had to be incredibly worked up about something or someone for tears to be part of the equation. The amount of energy used in crying could probably be better used for solving the issue or just walking away from it. Crying was a waste of energy, contradictory to the sacred Houtarou Oreki code: If I don't have to do it, I won't. If I have to do it, I'll make it quick.

As if on cue, Chitanda leaned to him and said, “I hope you'll be able to cry someday, Oreki-san.”

Hey. That's a strange thing to say to someone. He didn’t know whether to think of it as a curse or a blessing.

“Wait, what I mean is—” Chitanda held up her hands, revealing the fish scales stuck to her palms. “I mean, crying isn't good or bad, or a waste of energy.”

She was doing it again, determined to challenge his way of thinking, his way of life. Houtarou wanted to believe that he wasn’t so easily swayed, but here he was: a bike ride away from his house, in Eru Chitanda’s kitchen, cutting onions, listening to her, waiting to hear what she had to say, because somewhere along the way, he could no longer tune her out.

“I believe it's necessary. Don’t you think so?”

Houtarou blinked. One errant tear escaped down his cheek, and it was Chitanda who reached her thumb out to wipe it away. He smelled mackerel, but could only think about vines curling around his ankles, and cherry blossoms scattered in the wind.

The one thing that could make him cry was perhaps the thought of his way of life being ruined.

"Maybe."

Now, he’s not so sure anymore.


End file.
